


3. Configuration

by Molly



Series: Interstitial Spaces [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly/pseuds/Molly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>McKay's the guy.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	3. Configuration

**Author's Note:**

> These three stories -- Apples, Brokedown Palace, and Configuration -- were originally planned as the beginning of an ongoing series in which John and Rodney get to know each other between the moments we see on screen. Time and fandom got away from me, and I don't think I'll be continuing it; but I do think they stand pretty well on their own as one possible way the SGA team began.

Elizabeth's office was cool and sterile in a way that couldn't be entirely blamed on the Ancients. It was neat, and very minimally decorated with the kinds of things aliens left behind when they Ascended. Her desk was pristine, nothing but a laptop, a folder, and a stylus, and no sign anything else had ever touched its surface. John fought off an urge to do a little wastebasket recon, waited until Elizabeth had taken her seat, and lowered himself into the guest chair across from her.

She leaned back, offered a half-grin, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well," she said. "It's been quite a week."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, call me Elizabeth." Her smiled warmed up disarmingly. John tensed up, while trying not to look like he was, and nodded. He already did call her Elizabeth, but it was nice to be invited.

"How is Teyla settling in?" she asked.

"She's doing all right." He mentally ran through what he knew about Teyla: tough, smart, weird, nice, pretty, sad. "A little bummed out about losing her homeworld and everything, but other than that, about as well as could be expected."

"And the rest of the Athosians?"

John shrugged. The Athosians, interesting as they might be individually, were kind of impenetrable as a unit. For now, he was thinking of them as civilians, but he had a pretty good idea that wasn't how they thought of themselves. They'd been fighting the Wraith for generations, and they were still around; he was going to have to find a way to use them.

"I trust," Elizabeth said dryly, "that your written reports will be a little less reserved."

John shook his head, and smiled. "Sorry. Force of habit. What do you want to know?"

"Mostly, I want to know the man in charge of military operations on this base and off-world, and I want to know that when I need his advice, I won't have to pry it out of him." Elizabeth smiled in a way John supposed was meant to be friendly; mostly, it just made him nervous. He slouched a little, in self-defense.

"My advice hasn't been in a lot of demand these past few years," he said. "It takes a little getting used to."

"I'm not exactly your typical CO, in case you hadn't noticed. I don't bite."

"All due respect, ma'am," John said gently, "that's what they all say."

"Nevertheless. I like you, John."

John kept his surprise -- and panic -- off his face. "Well," he said slowly, playing for time. "That's--"

"And you're going to like me, too." She leaned forward, pinning him to his seat with her eyes; it was a little like getting shot, without the bullets.

John swallowed, and sat up a little straighter. "Yes, _ma'am,"_ he said, and this time she didn't correct him.

  


* * *

  


And the funny thing was, he actually _did_ like Elizabeth. She pretty obviously had less than no idea what she was doing, but hell, neither had any of the rest of them. It wasn't like any of their jobs were ones you could train for. She screwed up a lot -- she especially wasn't great with the Athosians, which made John wonder a little about her diplomatic cred -- but she always seemed to dig herself out. That took the kind of guts John could respect. And when seriously bad stuff happened, like Sumner (God _damn_ it) or waking up the Wraith or hungry alien energy entities running loose in the city, Elizabeth almost always kept her cool. She almost always came down on his side, too, and John knew himself well enough to guess that was a large part of her charm.

Still, the lady was a little compulsive about meetings. Two weeks out from arrival, John figured he'd spent more time in her office than he had in his own quarters. When she'd said she wanted his advice, he hadn't thought she meant every second of every day. McKay and Beckett were also in her rotation, for which John was wildly grateful; it was the only reason he got any work done. They were leaving her office as he was coming in. Beckett smiled politely and said good morning; McKay, pale and a little wild around the eyes, just shot John a look of mingled sympathy and despair. It was 0730, and John knew for a fact McKay had still been up at 0300. John, at least, was coming _off_ shift; he was pretty sure McKay was going _on_. He had to fight off a ridiculous urge to order the man to bed; wasn't his place, but it sure as hell needed to be somebody's.

He gave McKay's arm a buck-up squeeze as he pushed past him into Elizabeth's office, and got a tired smile for his trouble. Maybe John could get Elizabeth to order McKay to sleep, in return for whatever she was about to talk him into.

"John," she said as he walked in. "Good morning. I should warn you, I'm meeting with Sergeant Bates in about ten minutes, so we don't have a lot of time."

"That puts me about twenty minutes closer to getting my boots off," John said. He sat down and watched her. "What's up with Bates?"

"I'm considering putting him in charge of security in the city."

"I'm hurt," John said, raising his eyebrows. "What's he got that I haven't got?"

"Time and temperament. He has a mix of tenaciousness and paranoia that I think could serve us well."

"I can be pretty tenacious and paranoid, when I have to be."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, and smiled. "I don't doubt it. But John, you're not in Antarctica anymore. It's not your place to make routine security patrols and investigate every odd noise that keeps the Athosians awake at night. I know you didn't sign on for this, but you're the military commander of Atlantis now, and I need you in that role, one hundred percent. Do you understand me?"

John slipped down further down into the chair. "I _like_ patrolling."

"Yes. I've noticed you like almost anything that keeps you on your own and out of the spotlight."

"I'm a behind-the-scenes kind of guy."

"Not here." Elizabeth hit him again with that laserbeam focus that just never meant anything good. "Not anymore."

John sighed, and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He knew when he was beaten; he'd been there too many times, not to recognize it. "Okay," he said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Only what I've asked you to do already. Put together a team. Get us back out there. We need friends here, and we need power; we can't afford to let ourselves get side-tracked by internal distractions."

Personally, John classed pissed-off alien energy creatures a little higher than 'distraction'. But that was probably why Elizabeth was behind the desk and John was on the carpet. "I've got some ideas in that area," he said.

"I thought you might. Teyla?"

"And Ford. He's a little green, but he's been doing this whole gate-travel thing longer than I have; he probably thinks the same thing about me."

"I think that's a very good start, Major. But I'd like you to have one of the scientists with you as well. Assuming there's Ancient technology out there to be found, you'll need someone who can recognize and analyze it, make sure it's safe to bring back."

"You mean, somebody who can make sure some ignorant stick doesn't blow himself up in the attempt."

Elizabeth grinned. "I didn't say that."

In spite of himself, John grinned back. "You didn't have to."

"I've put together some suggestions for you. These men and women are very good at what they do, and most have had prior experience in the field." Elizabeth slid a blue folder across her desk. "I think any one of them would be up to the challenge."

John accepted the file and opened it up. Two pages, stapled (and who thought to bring staples to the Pegasus galaxy? Whose _job_ was that?), a carefully ordered list of about twenty names, with specialties and summarized field experience. He scanned down, flipped to the second page, scanned down, then let the top page fall. He recognized a couple of names, but couldn't match any up with faces. "Huh," he said, and dropped the file back onto the desk between them.

She lifted one perfect eyebrow. "Something wrong, Major?"

He shrugged. "Hard to say, when I don't know anybody on the list. I'm not keen on heading into the field with a total stranger."

"You're new to the program, John. Isn't everyone going to be more or less a stranger?"

"Just a bunch of friends I haven't met yet, right?" John didn't roll his eyes, but it was a very near thing.

"You don't have to decide right away. You can conduct some interviews, get to know people--"

"What about McKay?"

Elizabeth blinked; first time John had ever seen _that_ happen. He hadn't been real sure she had eyelids. She leaned back in her chair, watching him closely. "Seriously?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Well, as I'm sure you noticed, his name isn't among my recommendations. He's brilliant, there's no questioning that, but he has no field experience and has never expressed a wish to acquire any. Quite the opposite, in fact."

John shrugged. "In terms of field experience, I'd say this past week or so qualifies just about everybody. And you have to admit, he surprised us both a few days ago. I'd kind of like to see just how badly we misjudged him."

A small, skeptical line appeared in the center of Elizabeth's forehead. "In the heat of the moment--"

John came out of his slouch, and leaned forward over the desk. "In the heat of the moment, you find out who people are. McKay didn't know that shield wouldn't short out as soon as he touched our little cloud friend, or while he was inside it; for all he knew, that was a suicide mission. There are lots of guys who might take that kind of chance, but in terms of your list, there's only one guy who did. That matters." John didn't realize how much it mattered till he said it, till it seemed like Elizabeth didn't believe it. _"That's_ the guy I want behind me out in the field."

"I don't deny his dedication, John. Or his courage. He's proven both beyond a doubt. But there are other considerations as well. His position as head of the science division, for one--"

"So get him a really good second. Consider it cross-training. It's not good to keep our resources concentrated in one person anyway."

Tilting her head, Elizabeth gave him a very tiny smile. "You seem very determined."

John shrugged. "McKay's the guy."

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her fingers toyed absently with her stylus while seconds ticked by. Finally, she said, "There's also the matter of his willingness to take on fieldwork..."

John grinned and leaned back in his chair, hooking one arm over the back. He knew a cave-in when he saw one. "Leave that part to me."

"All right." She gave a what-the-hell shrug. "I'm willing to try it if you are. But," she said, the warning in her voice stopping him mid-rise from his chair, "before you make your decision, I'd like you to read his personnel file."

"Sure, okay, but--"

"Not to pass judgment," she said firmly. "Just so you know what you're getting yourself into. I'm not expecting it to change your mind." If the expression on her face was any indication, she wasn't expecting anything to change John's mind. Just as well; his father always told him to begin as he meant to go on.

When she had the file up on her screen, Elizabeth rose, and offered John her seat. He took it, his eyes on her instead of the open document in front of him. She stopped on her way out of the office, turning and laying her hand on the doorframe.

"He's the guy, Elizabeth," John said firmly, before she could speak.

Elizabeth's lips closed around whatever she'd been planning to say. With a smile and a polite nod, she left him alone with the file.

  


* * *

  


With one thing and another...and another, and another...it was zero-dark-thirty by the time John hunted down McKay. He found him in his lab, back to the door, a coffee mug gripped in one hand while he typed furiously with the other. John was a little impressed. He leaned in the doorway, watching McKay work in the pool of light thrown by the swing-arm lamp hanging over his laptop. He could see tension and exhaustion in the hunched shoulders, the angle of McKay's neck. If nothing else, having McKay on his team would mean having the authority to make him take some downtime.

"You know," he said, "you're the only person I've ever met who actually got sent to Siberia for screwing up. I thought that was just something they threatened people with in the movies."

McKay went still, the clatter of keys falling silent. After a frozen second, his shoulders slumped. He stood up and faced John, his chin raised, his arms folded across his chest. "Ah," he said softly. "My personnel file. I suppose it was only a matter of time."

"Hey." John took a step forward, a little alarmed. He'd expected annoyance, maybe some sarcasm; not this brittle, disappointed look on McKay's face. It went straight to his gut; he would have reached out, but McKay was clearly at the end of his tether. John shoved his hands in his pockets instead, and tried to look non-threatening. "Glass houses, no stones. I wasn't doing the daily McMurdo milkrun because of my sterling record and unimpeachable character."

"If you're here to bond over our professional failures, I'll take a raincheck. I'm a very busy man."

"I'm just saying." John ramped up the charm a little. "I'm not here to give you a hard time. I just wondered what happened."

McKay rolled his eyes, but some of the tension drained out of him; his face dropped back into the scowl John had gotten comfortable with, and his arms loosened up, along with the rest of his posture. "We've established that you can read, Major," he said bluntly. "You've seen the report. I don't have anything to add."

"I'm not so sure about that. Hammond was pretty pissed off when he was writing it up, and Carter and O'Neill sounded about the same. I was hoping to hear your side."

"Carter was right, I wasn't. Teal'c was fine, no thanks to me." McKay looked away, bracing his hands on the table behind him. "That's my side."

"McKay--"

"Can I get back to work now?"

John winced. He crossed his arms in front of him, taking a mental step back. He'd never been any good at this, this whole talking thing, whatever; he didn't know why it was suddenly bugging him, now. "Sure," he said, and turned the mental step into a physical one. Like they always did, words came easier with distance. "Sorry I interrupted you. It's late, and I'm sure you want to" _work five or six more hours_ "finish up and get some sleep. I'll see you around."

"Sheppard, wait."

John stopped at the door to the lab. He heard McKay's footsteps behind him, and turned around. The stoic look on McKay's face was gone, replaced by exasperation and worry. _For me,_ John realized in a flash of surprised insight. _Huh._

"Look," McKay said. His hands clenched, then relaxed at his sides. He took a long, deep breath; John thought for a second McKay might hyperventilate. "As I've said, I'm not a big fan of recapping past humiliations. And I'm not very good with people, not even... especially when I want to be. I imagine you already know that."

John nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Look." McKay squared his shoulders, and marshalled his features into a glare. "If we're going to be...If we're going to work together, you have to learn not to take everything I say personally. I have a lot on my mind, I can't be expected to run everything through a filter just in case it might offend some fragile flyboy with delusions of authority."

John frowned, and tilted his head to get a better angle on McKay. "Is that your idea of an apology?"

"Sort of." McKay waved a hand between them tiredly. "And, you know. Thanks for asking."

By degrees, John felt the muscles along his spine unclench. He offered a smile, and when McKay matched it, John rolled his shoulders and leaned back against the wall. It felt really good to finally get something right. "Well, you're welcome. I imagine you've noticed I'm not all that great at this stuff myself." McKay snorted, and John surprised himself yet again by laughing.

"So...sit down, or something." McKay went back to his chair and fell into it, waiting for John to pull one up across from him. He shoved the laptop aside, pushed the swing lamp out of his face, and leaned back. "Is this really that important?"

"Kind of?" John shrugged apologetically. "Yeah, it is."

McKay sighed. "I warn you, it's not exactly memoir material. As much as it pains me to say it, I deserved what I got."

"I don't know about that," John said slowly. "I wasn't there. Like I said, McKay, I didn't come in here to rake you over the coals. I'm just trying to get a handle on the guy who holds my life in his hands whenever something goes wrong with this city, or a jumper, or whatever other damn thing has decided to screw with us. You show up at the SGC, you act like a--"

"I believe the term General O'Neill used was 'supercilious prick'."

"Now, now." John smirked. "You can't say 'prick' in an official report."

"You can if you're Jack O'Neill. What you can't say is 'supercilious'. I was reading between the lines."

"Anyway." John tipped back, balancing the chair on its back legs. "So. You don't make any close friends at the SGC. Then you tell the black hats that this Teal'c guy is probably toast, so they might as well turn the stargate back on. Which, if my user manual doesn't lie, would have pretty much wiped him out of existence."

"Yes," McKay said shortly. His fingers drummed nervously on the table top. "Which we know _now_ , and which we didn't know _then_. If I'd known that at the time, I would never have suggested it."

"But you didn't know." John let the front legs of his chair hit the floor, and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him on the table. More than he expected -- more than he could really account for -- John wanted McKay to get this _right_. "You didn't know what would happen."

"I just said--"

"McKay. You didn't know, right?"

McKay's lips thinned out, but he didn't look away. "Yes. I thought I knew, but I didn't."

"But you know _now."_

McKay's shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Of _course_ I know now, do you think I took a vow of idiocy? I do have the ability to learn from my experiences, thank you _very_ much. I didn't think the buffer could hold a pattern that long, I thought it was going turn into some kind of monkey's paw thing, but clearly it wasn't, he was--"

John raised his eyebrows. "You thought he was gonna come back a zombie?" The mental image that thought conjured up was completely unwelcome -- and not at all unlikely, given the past few weeks. He frowned, and looked at McKay nervously. "That's not something that could actually happen, right?"

McKay gave a quick, sharp grin. "Not unless we're living in an _Evil Dead_ remake, Major; no." The humor faded, replaced by an inward, measuring look. "But there was a very strong probability -- no, you know what? There was an _absolute certainty_ that if Carter had managed to extract anything at all from the buffer, it wouldn't have lived long and it wouldn't have been a memory to treasure. I was also a little concerned about the possibility that she could blow Colorado off the map if her plan didn't work. So yes, I wanted them to clear the buffer, and I told them that they should, and I would have been completely justified in doing so if I hadn't been completely wrong."

John tilted his head, trying to get a different angle on the guy in front of him. "I'm not tracking."

McKay sighed. "Note that I said I was wrong, Major, not that I was mistaken. I wasn't. Everything I knew about matter and energy, everything I knew about physics, told me the pattern in the buffer should have degraded and Teal'c should have died."

"So what went...right?"

"Try not to faint from shock when I say this, but apparently, I don't know _everything_ there is to know about matter, energy, and physics. The Ancients..." McKay shook his head, clearly frustrated. "You have to understand, Major. They didn't think like we think. We say...okay, particularly relevant for people living in a floating city, we say _the buoyant force on an object is equal to the weight of the fluid displaced by the object --_ "

"Archimedes' principle."

McKay stuttered to a halt, and stared at John. "What?"

"You're talking about Archimedes' principle."

"That's--" McKay blinked. Then he gave his head a shake, and his eyes narrowed. "That's...not the point. The point is, we say something like that, but an Ancient would say... I don't know, the buoyant force on an object consists of two or more melodic voices in which parts move with rhythmic independence."

John raised his eyebrows, and waited.

"Imagine if you were drowning," McKay said, "and one person threw you a rope, and the other person threw you a bunny but swore the bunny would float. Which one would you grab?"

"Hard to say," John said easily, and tried not to grin when McKay's face went bright red with annoyance.

"I'll keep that in mind if you should ever fall overboard," McKay said viciously.

"I'm just saying. I kind of like bunnies."

"I have _work_ I could be doing. Very important, possibly even vital, actual work that you are keeping me away from with your little American Inquisition routine--"

"Just answer me this, McKay." John met McKay's eyes squarely. "If you had it to do over again, what would you do differently?"

"I'd take a right at the control room instead of a left, and go to bed early, thus avoiding this entire conversation and catching up on some much-needed sleep," McKay snapped.

"And?"

"And...I'd listen to Sam. She has something... She understood something I didn't. I was grossly unprepared for a situation in which irrational hope might be smarter than skepticism."

John took a deep breath, releasing it slow and steady. Relief hit him like a high, warm tide. "I think you understand things pretty clearly now," he said, smiling. "And I tend to think hope is always smart."

McKay snorted. "You would."

John nodded firmly, and looked McKay up and down. Under the puffy jacket, he looked sturdy and strong enough; that was a pretty good start. He was going to need some endurance training at the very least, though, and he'd have to learn how to fire a weapon. John didn't think those hands had ever held anything more dangerous than a mangled paperclip; they were too soft, and a little too uncoordinated. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of those hands wrapped around a P-90 at his six, but then again, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of them rearranging the innards of Atlantis that much, either. Not that it made any difference; John was stuck with them, either way.

Might as well have them where he could see them. He grinned, and offered his hand to McKay across the table. Blinking, McKay took it and shook with him; a decent, solid grip.

"I was thinking," John said slowly, "maybe tomorrow, I might go nose around in the solar system next door. Just, you know. See who's around, see if they have any cool stuff. You want to come along?"

McKay's eyes went round and wide. "With you? To another planet?"

"To a couple other planets, maybe. Elizabeth has a little list."

"Are you -- " McKay looked pole-axed, completely out of his depth. "What are you asking me to do, exactly?"

"C'mon, McKay," John said, throwing all his charm into it. "Alien planets, weird technology, space adventures..."

"Space _vampires..._ "

John shrugged philosophically. "Wouldn't be much of an adventure without some bad guys."

McKay shook his head, staring at John with a look of utter surprise. "What?" John said, his eyes narrowing a fraction. He fought off a weird urge to fidget, and hunched his shoulders instead.

"Just--nothing." McKay laughed, looked a little embarrassed about it, then shook his head harder and laughed again, a warm and funny sound that made John smile in spite of himself. "Sorry. It's nothing. So...this whole thing, this has been some kind of job interview?"

"Yeah, a little."

"And after hearing all about my greatest professional embarrassment, you...you still really want me to go with you?"

John's smile got wider, and if it felt a little weird on his face, he put it down to unaccustomed sincerity. "Yeah," he said, a little stunned at how much he meant it. "I do."

"You did hear the part where I almost got Teal'c killed, right?"

"I heard the important part. The part where you know better, now. I don't leave people behind, McKay. Not ever." John held McKay's baffled gaze, and watched the understanding sink in. It took a few seconds, but when he'd absorbed it, McKay lifted his chin and stood a little straighter.

"I won't let you down, Major."

Most people did, somewhere along the way, but John could see the determination in McKay's eyes, and he wanted to believe it. Well...he always _wanted_ to believe it. But out here things were different; the stakes, the consequences, the people...everything was different. Maybe out here, John could be a little different, too.

He nodded, and clapped McKay on the shoulder. "You know," he said, "I really don't think you will."

  
.end


End file.
